Evening Primrose
by Baine
Summary: COMPLETE! She had been trapped against her wishes since childhood.  He was a struggling writer who found her through chance and circumstance.  Romance, deceit, betrayal.  Can they escape before it's too late?
1. Prologue and Chapter 1

Evening Primrose

Prologue: Alone

By Baine

Finished: October 25, 2006

Posted: September 14, 2010

**Author's Note:** So begins a new story. This one consists of four chapters in addition to a framing Prologue/Epilogue. This story will be a Usagi/Mamoru romance, though to give it "book" form, I have Minako "reading" Mamoru's journal in the Prologue, so don't be alarmed when you don't see our main characters until Chapter One. I've been sitting on this story for a really long time, and never seem to get a chance to post it in the fall. It's the perfect sort of story for this time of year.

There will be more author notes and credits later on. For now, I present you with:

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**Evening Primrose**

**Prologue: Alone  
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She felt as though she was being watched. Drawing her cardigan closer to her body, Minako Aino shivered as her eyes darted around the kitchen, searching for anything out of place. She frowned and gnawed at her lip before turning back to the stove. The heat of its fire did nothing to warm her.

She watched numbly as her chicken began to sizzle. The grease in the frying pan bubbled and splattered onto the wall, leaving behind murky brown splatters that reminded her of blood.

Her breath caught as she heard a creaking floorboard in the hallway. It had always annoyed her, but they had never gotten around to fixing it. Tonight, she was glad that they hadn't, for it alerted her to the fact that she was no longer alone. Her shoulders tensed as she heard a soft, rhythmic noise that reminded her of someone trying too hard to be quiet.

She glanced at her surroundings once more. There was a knife on the counter from when she had been preparing the chicken. She had a scalding pan brimming with hot grease on the gas stove before her. She glanced down at her waist. If someone was in the house with her, she wasn't about to let him find her wearing something that could easily double as a strangling device. She slowly brought a trembling hand to her back and untied the knot holding her apron in place, shrugging out of it and allowing it to fall to the floor. She kicked it into the corner and grabbed for the knife as she heard the soft creak of the door behind her as it slowly began to open.

Her breath hitched and she wanted to do nothing more than flee, but she felt frozen. There was nowhere to go. She didn't have a back door, so her only exit was through the door currently swinging toward her. She glanced over at the table. She had done the laundry today, so there wasn't even a tablecloth to shield her from view were she to hide. Her eyes narrowed as they fell on the small marble notebook lying innocently in the middle of the table.

That book...it was the source of all her problems.

Why hadn't she thought to hide it when she was through instead of leaving it out in plain sight? She dashed to the table and reached out to grab the book, only to freeze as the door banged against the wall and a man stepped into the room, his dark mask shielding his face from view as he reached towards her with a gloved hand.

Her eyes widened, but she found herself unable to move. It felt like her heart was exploding in her chest. It was beating at a speed that would rival a hummingbird's, slamming wildly against her ribs as it strained to leap from its resting place and into her throat. She brought a hand to her chest in an attempt to steady it, only to realize that she was still holding the kitchen knife. She stilled as the man before her froze and gave her a calculating glance. She swallowed in fear. That had been a stupid mistake, hadn't it? Now he knew she was armed.

Her body still shielding the notebook on the table from view, her eyes widened as he pulled away the knit-mask that concealed his face, revealing himself inch by terrifying inch. He was the type who wanted his victims to know him before they died, wasn't he?

Her turquoise eyes widened as he pulled the mask over his eyes and off of his head, shaking out his mane of pale hair.

"Man, it's cold out tonight." He glanced from her knife to her face, then back again. "Mins?" he asked, giving her an odd look. "What's going on?"

She slumped backwards in relief, the table supporting her as she drew in a deep breath. She glanced up at her husband, fighting to remain calm. "You scared me half to death," she exclaimed, still clutching at her heart. "What were you sneaking around for, anyway?"

He eyed her skeptically. "I wasn't any quieter than normal." He looked once more at the knife she was still cradling to her chest. "Why are you so jumpy tonight?"

"I—I just—"

He eyed her shrewdly. "What are you hiding?"

"N—Nothing!"

He gave her a once-over. "Then why are you trying to hide the table from view?" He tilted his head and tried to peer around her. "Is there a man hiding under there I should be aware of or something?"

"Of course not!" She flushed with indignation and moved away from the table.

"Dinner's burning."

Her eyes widened again as she hurried over and turned off the stove, removing the charred scraps of chicken and dumping them onto a nearby plate. She watched in fascination as black flakes scattered across the plate, reminding her of ashes.

"What's this?"

Minako turned towards her husband and her eyes widened as she saw him reaching out to pick up the notebook. "No, don't!"

He paused to look at her. "Why not?"

"It's too horrifying."

"What is it?"

"Well, today I went to Macy's to get a new notebook, but it wasn't until I got home that—well, I realized that there was something _wrong_ with it."

He blinked rapidly, glancing at her as though she were insane. "Like what, a crease in the cover?"

"No." She glanced around the kitchen, once more feeling a prickling at the back of her neck. The windows, perhaps? If someone was there, they were well-hidden by the inky veil of night. She licked her lips nervously. "Can we, uh, go into the living room or something?"

"What for?"

"I'd just feel more comfortable."

"Mins, what's going on? Are you okay?"

"Please." She stared at him, pleading with her eyes. "I'll explain everything in there."

"Alright..." He reached out a hand and brought it to her forehead as she came closer to him. "Are you sure you're feeling alright?"

She licked her lips again and her eyes darted towards the notebook now clutched in her husband's large hand. "Honestly, I'm not too sure of anything at the moment..." Following him into the living room, she sat beside him on the couch in order to share his body heat.

"So what's so wrong with this poor notebook?" he asked, giving it a cursory glance.

"I was—That is—" She lowered her voice to a whisper. "Somebody had already _written_ in it."

He stared at her, perplexed. "Is that all? Just take it back to the store and get a new one, Mins."

"It's not that simple. I—I can't."

"Why not?"

"_They'll_ find me." Her voice was barely audible as she glanced once more towards the windows, her inner voice whispering, '_If they haven't already...'_

"They won't care if you exchange the book for another. Honest. Stop being such a drama queen." 

"That's not it. I mean, I just—Maybe you should read it after all."

"What?"

She reached over his shoulder and took the book from his grasp, opening it to the first page. A dark, flowing form of cursive sprawled across the page, a few words smudged here and there as though a hand had brushed against the ink while it was still wet.

A sense of foreboding engulfed her as she shakily handed it to her husband. She shivered against the cold air permeating the room. She turned her head and stood up, making her way to the window across the room. It was shut tight. The only thing she saw was a skeletal tree branch hanging from a nearby tree, smaller branches curling towards her like bony, misshapen fingers. There was no one there. She shivered again as she made her way back to her husband, curling against his side as she fought to keep the cold at bay.

He glanced at her once more before wrapping an arm around her waist and drawing her closer to himself. Slowly, he began to read, his eyes growing wider with every turn of the page...

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Evening Primrose

Chapter One: "If You Can Find Me, I'm Here"

By Baine

Finished: October 27, 2006

Posted: September 14, 2010

**Author's Note:** I didn't want to leave you with just a frame and no introduction to our characters, so I stuck the prologue and first chapter together.

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**Evening Primrose**

**One: If You Can Find Me, I'm Here  
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It was Darien Chiba's first time living in a department store, so he still wasn't used to his surroundings. He frowned as he climbed across the ground, brushing the edge of a carpet away from his face as he left the cocoon of safety he had created for himself. Stepping back to look at his hiding place, he gave a low whistle of appreciation. He had done a good job putting it together—if he did say so himself. A stack of carpets lay piled before him, their designs faded with age. They were dusty, and he knew he'd have to beat the rugs before the night was over or he'd wind up inadvertently killing himself. Over the years, customers had rejected them in favor of newer, more modern styles. It worked for him, though, because it meant no one would come to this corner of the store and discover his existence. It was imperative he remain hidden during business hours. If anyone were to find out that he was living in a department store, things would get complicated.

Once his eyes had adjusted to the dark, he made his way toward the escalators. Before he did anything, he would go down to the food department and get something to eat. He glanced around and slowly began descending the stairs, taking care not to make any noise. As he made his way through the accessories department, his footsteps echoed through the store. He moved onto the soft, carpeted area of the Hat Department. Taking a deep breath, he started to move once more, only to freeze in alarm as he realized that he could still hear footsteps. The night watchman! He quickly scanned his surroundings and grabbed a top hat and cloak before positioning himself on a display with two mannequins. He breathed slowly, hoping the night watchman didn't have super-sensitive hearing.

He found himself worrying over nothing, however, for his breath caught in his throat as a beam of light passed over him. It wasn't until the man had disappeared that he began to breathe again. _That was close_, he thought, determining he would have to be even more careful in the future if he didn't want to get caught.

He quickly placed the hat and cloak where he had found them and turned back to the display, freezing as he realized that someone had been watching him the entire time. One of the mannequins was now facing him, his skin a pale, glowing white and his eyes an almost-inhuman shade of red. The mannequin stepped down from the display and glided towards him silently. He stopped a foot away and removed his top hat to reveal a shock of bright red hair.

The mannequin bobbed his head. "You're pretty quick. Not just anyone could pull off a save like that their first time out."

"Excuse me?"

The man held out his hand, revealing long, alabaster fingers. "Forgive me, I have horrible manners. My name is Rubeus."

"I'm Darien. Darien Chiba." He licked his lips nervously. "Um—are you the other night watchman?"

"Heavens, no." Rubeus grinned and gestured around the store with his hand. "I live here."

"You—what?" Darien's eyes widened in alarm. Had this man been sent here to mock him before taking him into custody? He winced as he heard the other man chortle.

"This is where I _live_, Darien. You know, it's my home?" He gestured again, his arm making a wide sweeping arc around the store. "This is where we _all_ live."

"There are more of you?" Darien gulped and subtly pinched his arm, wincing in pain at the action. He definitely wasn't dreaming. Maybe he was hallucinating? He brought a hand to his forehead. He didn't have a fever...

"You're not imagining things. I'm really here." Rubeus gestured around the store once more. "We all are."

Darien skimmed the store with his eyes, but saw nothing. It was only upon looking around a second time, really _looking_, that he saw them. There were two females descending from a display over in handbags, mournfully patting at the designer labels as they returned them to their rightful places. The cardboard display advertising a diamond ring sprang to life before his eyes, separating into the form of a man and a woman. Everywhere he turned, people began to emerge, surrounding him until he began to feel suffocated.

"But—aren't you—mannequins?"

"No more than you are." Rubeus held out his hand and reached for Darien's palm, grabbing onto it and gripping tight. "Could a mannequin be this strong? Could it grip you at all?" He lightly moved his fingers across the younger man's skin.

"Could you feel flesh and bone when I touched you just now?" He let go and stepped backwards. "We are as real as you are, Darien. It's just been a heck of a lot longer since we've seen the light of the sun.

A frail woman with curly brown hair placed a hand on Rubeus' shoulder and frowned, her ruby lips shining brightly against her milky skin. "Who's your new..._friend_?" She bared her teeth. "He's too tan. He stands out like a beacon!"

The tall woman beside her nodded. "He must be a detective."

The group began to murmur in fear.

"A detective? Have they finally discovered us?"

"A detective..."

"A detective..."

The curly-haired woman latched onto the red-head in front of her, eyes wide with fear. "Our worst fear has come true! Rubeus, call for the Dark Men! Bring them here at once!"

A shot of fear ran down Darien's spine. What was a Dark Man? He shook his head as he watched everyone around him nod in assent. "No! That is—you have it all wrong. I'm not a detective!"

"You're not?" The woman's eyes narrowed in accusation. "You must be a burglar, then. That's even worse! Rubeus, please, call for the Dark Men. I can't bear to look at him any longer." She whimpered and hid her face in his shoulder. "His skin hurts my eyes..."

Darien's heart beat wildly in his chest. Who were these Dark Men everyone was telling Rubeus to find? Why did everything feel so...ominous all of a sudden?

He trembled as he felt frail hands latching onto him and holding him still. He could feel every bony finger, each one poking at him obtrusively. His skin crawled and he yearned to shrug them off.

"Everyone, calm down. You're getting much too loud. We don't want the night watchman to hear us, do we?" Rubeus moved forward, roughly clamping his hands onto Darien's shoulders. "Why are you here?" His eyes were dark and calculating.

Darien licked his lips, but they remained dry. "Please," he whispered. "I'm no burglar!"

"Then what are you, Darien?"

"I'm just a writer. I didn't even know anyone was living here!" He held a hand to his heart. "I researched the different department stores for three days before deciding to live in this one!"

A hunched-over man raised his cane towards Darien. "What made you decide on Macy's?"

Darien shrugged. "It had the biggest food department. You need food in order to survive, right?"

The old man scratched at his chin. "That _is _true. He nodded slowly. "Macy's _is_ the best department store around. We have _history_." His eyes narrowed. "If you're a writer, are you here to do a story on us?"

"No, of course not! I told you—I didn't even know that anyone else was here. I just want...I just wanted to find a place where I could get away from everything."

He rubbed his hand through his dark hair in frustration. "I didn't want to hear my mother harping about how I need to find a job that makes money so I can get married and start a family. I didn't want to hear the landlord complaining about the rent. I just wanted to be by myself." He signed and looked around as his voice became quiet and subdued. "I just don't want to deal with _life_ anymore."

The curly-haired woman's eyes softened as she glanced over at Darien. "That's why we came here, too. We all came to get away."

The group of people began to mumble again, but instead of a wild chant that sent chills down his back, Darien heard the more pleasing rendition, "He's one of us now."

Breathing deeply to steady his heartbeat, he felt a cold talon of fear run down his spine as the crowd grew silent and split in two, making way for a shriveled old woman who didn't look a day under eighty. She looked up at him, her pale blue eyes hazy under the veil of cataracts.

Darien's skin crawled just looking at her. Her face had sunken in on itself; her eyes were too large in comparison to the size of the rest of her head. She had a long, skinny neck and her clothes hung from her frail body. He secretly named her "Turtle Lady," for that was the vision that came to mind when he looked at her.

"Who might you be?" she asked in a soft, airy voice.

"This is Darien Chiba, Lady Nehelenia." Rubeus bowed at the waist, almost touching the ground in his desire to please her.

"Darien?" She rolled the name on her tongue, caressing it as she sought to discover its flavor.

"He claims to be a writer. He wants to live with us." The curly-haired woman stepped out from behind Rubeus, making herself known as she placed herself slightly in front of him.

The older woman gave her a disdainful look. "Avery, if I don't ask you to speak, then please—don't. Your voice hurts my fragile ears."

The younger woman frowned at the insult, but refrained from saying anything further.

"I am Nehelenia," the older woman said, holding out a slender hand lined with the contours of her bones. "I have lived here longer than anyone else. I have been here since my father lost his life savings back in the 80s. With no dowry and no shot at a decent beau, I came here so I would still be able to wear the latest fashions, even if I could no longer afford to own them."

Darien stared at her skeptically. She had lived here for almost sixty years? How had she not gone mad?

She chuckled lightly. "Oh, I know what you're thinking, dear. Fortunately, it's far from the truth! I had plenty of things to do that kept me occupied. As you can see, I haven't been alone here the entire time."

She gestured to a group of men and women whose torsos had begun to cave in on themselves. "This group came after the Panic of 1907." She moved her hand so that it pointed towards a group of middle-aged people. "That group over there came after the Crash in 1929 when our economy was at its lowest. We have men who came here to escape enlisting in the two Great Wars, women who wanted to escape from arranged marriages, writers such as yourself who came here to get away from the world... In essence, we have many types of people living here, Mr. Chiba. Right now, we have men coming to escape being shipped out to Vietnam."

Darien looked at her, chagrined. His idea really _hadn't_ been original, had it? "Do you mean to tell me that you've all lived here for over thirty years and never been caught?"

"Indeed." She grinned proudly. "And now, you are one of us. I do hope you will fit in over as short a transition period as possible, Mr. Chiba." She gave him a sharp glance, peering into his soul, a sinister look in her eyes.

He gulped nervously. Was she threatening him or was he merely being paranoid?

"The first thing you must do is lose that egregious tan. It stands out and hurts my eyes. You are much too dark to fit in without getting caught by the Night Watchman." Her eyes narrowed in calculation. "Once you've been out of the sunlight for a few months, you'll start to lighten up. Until then—"

She pursed her lips thoughtfully and glanced around the room. "Serena!" She tapped her foot impatiently and spoke a little louder. "Serena!" Her eyes narrowed as a scowl darkened her face. "Oh, where _is_ that girl? I swear, she's much more trouble than she's worth. Ser-ENA!"

"Yes'm?"

Darien turned his head towards the soft voice that came from behind him and his eyes widened. Standing by the hat rack was a woman not much younger than himself. Her golden hair cascaded down her back like twin waterfalls composed of liquid gold. Her pale face wasn't emaciated like the wraith-like figures that surrounded him. Instead, it reminded him of hand-carved porcelain. Big, doe-like eyes the color of the sea spared him a fleeting glance as she glided towards Nehelenia, her billowy lavender dress swishing at her knees. She looked as though she had stepped out of a book, an elusive fairy from days long past.

Nehelenia frowned crossly. "Where have you been? If I had to call your name any louder, the Watchman would have heard!"

Serena curtsied gracefully and bowed her head. "I apologize, Ma'am."

"Go to the makeup counter and find the palest powder we stock. Bring it here at once—I don't want you dawdling around anymore tonight."

"Yes'm." She straightened and scurried out of the apartment towards Cosmetics.

Darien stared after her in shock. "Who was that?"

Nehelenia waved her hand dismissively. "Her? She's a nobody. She's just my maid."

"She's—pretty young, isn't she?"

"Yes, she is. That's why I have to be so harsh with her, of course. She joined us very early on in life." She smiled at Darien. "Don't worry, dear. I'm not harsh to all of our newcomers. Serena is just...different." She grinned widely, baring yellow teeth that had long since begun to decay. "Stay on my good side and you'll have nothing to worry about."

He loosened his necktie discreetly and mopped the sweat forming on his forehead with the back of his hand. He was saved from her unwavering gaze by Serena's return. He turned to observe her once more, comparing her naturally small frame to that of those around her. She really was a wisp of a thing, wasn't she?

Nehelenia turned her sharp gaze toward Serena and frowned. "That took much too long, Serena. I expect to see more instantaneous results in the future. Is that clear?"

"Yes'm."

"Give this to Darien. He's the newest addition to our blossoming family." She turned her attention back to him. "You do know how to use this, don't you?"

He eyed the powder strangely. "N—No, I can't say that I do."

She sighed again, the noise expelled from her lungs in a tremulous whoosh of air. "Serena, go powder his face for him. Darien, pay attention to what she's doing. You'll have to do this on your own in the future."

He held his breath as he watched her move towards him, afraid he would blow her away if he so much as breathed the wrong way. He smiled wryly. With her hand so delicately brushing against his face, how could he _not_ be paying attention to her?

"Hello," he murmured, fighting the urge to sneeze as he felt powder fly into his nose.

She glanced up at him, but said nothing as she continued to bat at his face with the puff.

He frowned and tried again. "My name's Darien. This is my first night here. I, uh—Well, I guess you know that already, don't you?"

"Mr. Chiba!"

Darien looked up, startled.

"I would appreciate it if you restrained yourself from speaking with my maid. She is not like _us_."

"You speak as though she's dumb and can't understand you. Maid or not, that's no way to treat another human being."

Her eyes narrowed and became beady. Her lips tightened with disapproval. "I will remind you to remember your place, Mr. Chiba." Her voice was icy and sent chills down his spine.

"This is only your first day here. It would not do to assume that you have more knowledge regarding the way things work around here—especially since you are on probation yourself." She snapped her fingers and walked away from the department, two frail women tottering after her and struggling to keep her long gown from trailing the floor.

Darien let out a soft whoosh of air and closed his eyes, ignoring Rubeus, whose eyes never left him, waiting for the instant he made a wrong move. He tried to ignore the tingles that ran through his skin every time the powder puff brushed against his skin. He wanted to turn around and flee the store then and there, security system be damned.

_What the hell have I gotten myself into?_

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**Author's Note: **A lot of people need to be thanked for their help in looking this over, especially because it's a little different from the other romances out here. I also need to credit original source material, because this idea did not come from me. However, I also don't want to say anything to spoil the story for anyone right now because I want there to be a good amount of suspense. I'll credit everyone after the epilogue all at once. Send me a PM if you have a problem with that and we'll chat. :)

Also, sorry that I'm using Western names for the characters. This story takes place in Macy's, an American department store. It would be weird if the characters had Japanese names, especially during this time period. I hope the purists will continue to read this, esp. since I normally do use the Japanese names for the characters.

Like it? Hate it? I'm the one to talk to! Hit the little review button or Email ladybaine at gmail dot com today!

**«·´`·.(*·.¸(`·.¸¸.·´)¸.·*).·´`·»  
«·´¨*·.¸¸.*Baine*.¸¸.·*¨`·»  
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	2. Chapter 2

Evening Primrose

Chapter Two: I Remember...

By Baine

Finished: February 20, 2007

Posted: September 28, 2010

**Author's Note:** Should I have split the prologue and first chapter into two chapters? Is it weird reading the frame POVwith Minako? I'm worried that will turn potential readers away…

I'm really sorry that there was no update last week. I like to put my work out between Mon.-Wed. in the late afternoon so it doesn't hit weekend traffic and disappear off the main page before anyone can read it. Last week, I worked all three days and got home too late to post. I might have the same issue next week. It depends on whether or not I get my hair cut after work on Tues. since I'm finishing earlier in the day (and what time I'd get home after that), and I'm on-call Wednesday, so if I need to go in, I won't be able to post then, either. Monday is out. :( I'll try my best, but no promises! (I really wanted a weekly update for this one, though...)

Disclaimer for Now: There will be more author notes and credits later on. For now, I present you with:

**_.-"-._ _.-"-._ _.-"-._**

**Evening Primrose**

**Two: I Remember...  
_.-"-._ _.-"-._ _.-"-._**

Darien's fingers flew against the smooth contours of his notebook. The feeling of watching words spring to life across the once-pristine surface thrilled him and sent a surge of adrenaline rushing through his veins. _This_ was why he had decided to become a writer. There was no narcotic in the world that could give him a high as euphoric as the one he got from writing.

Putting his pen down with a sigh, he placed it in the binding of the notebook as though it were a bookmark and closed it with a snap. He glanced at his watch wearily. It was ten o'clock. He had been invited to play Bridge in the Ladies Dress Department with the others. This was his routine, night after night. He had been here for a week already, but it felt as though much more time had passed. Every night, Nehelenia found new ways to occupy his time. He had yet to find any spare time to dedicate to his writing, which was why he had come in the first place.

Once they started to trust him, they would lay off on the security. He frowned at the thought. Even if he wanted to, escape wasn't an option. They watched him like hawks. He hadn't planned to stay here forever, yet he knew now he would never be able to leave alive. He was a prisoner here.

He kept hearing whispers when they thought he wasn't paying attention, and the conversations always revolved around the mysterious Dark Men. Who were they? Why was their name never spoken in anything louder than a whisper? Why did any mention of them send tendrils of fear racing down his spine?

As he descended the escalator, a flash of gold caught his eye. He turned his head, but there was nothing there. He frowned in dismay. He had hoped it was Serena. He was never allowed to talk to her in the presence of others. Oftentimes, she wasn't even in the room with everyone else, preferring to keep to herself in the storage room in the basement. Was she purposely hiding from him? Why? He ran his hand through his hair in frustration. He didn't know why, but something about her intrigued him. It was as though she were a spider luring him into a web of illusions. He wanted to know everything about her.

As he quietly approached the Ladies Dress Department, he was perplexed to hear voices speaking in tones much higher than the normal whisper he had grown accustomed to hearing.

"You certainly may _not_."

"Please, Ma'am. I get so bored in the storage room! Can't I stay with everyone for once? I promise not to make any noise..."

"_No_, Serena. That's what you said last time, and we almost got caught by the Night Watchman."

"That was an accident and—"

Darien turned the corner and slowed, coming to a stop as he saw the shadowy forms of Nehelenia and Serena beside a nearby rack of formal wear. His forehead furrowed thoughtfully. It wasn't by choice that she spent her nights secluded from everyone else?

"For the last time, Serena, no! If I have to tell you again, I'm going to send Rubeus to get the Dark Men. Maybe _they'll _be able to talk some sense into you."

Serena's eyes widened in fear. "No, please don't! I'll be good, promise. I'm leaving right now. Please don't send for the Dark Men..."

Nehelenia sighed wearily. "Oh, very well. I'm in a forgiving mood tonight. Next time, you might not be so lucky." She narrowed her eyes and made a shooing motion. "Well, what are you waiting for, child? Scram. I want you out of my sight at once, or the deal's off."

"Yes, Ma'am." Serena bobbed her head and quickly fled from the department and out of sight.

Darien silently counted to a hundred before maneuvering around the rack of dresses that hid him from view and made his presence known to the group assembled before him.

"Darien." Nehelenia smiled as she reached a veined hand towards him. "We were starting to think you had forgotten all about us."

He plastered a fake smile onto his face. "How could I forget one as lovely as yourself?"

She giggled and blushed, bringing a hand to her cheeks. "You flatter me, boy!"

_Indeed I do_, he thought grimly, determined not to wind up on her bad side.

"Well, shall we begin?" She looked around expectantly before leading the way to the dressing room with all of the equipment for the bridge tournament.

He played mechanically, his thoughts miles away on the blonde who continued to haunt him. She had looked so forlorn as she turned to leave, and though her face was shrouded by shadow, he had been able to make out the trail of a silvery tear that made its way down her cheek.

"Your move, Darien."

"I'm just considering my options." He twirled a card thoughtfully, plastering on a look of intense concentration. It would never do to have them guess his thoughts.

The next night was a repeat of the previous one, only this time, Darien was ready with a plan. Pinching his cheeks so that color would appear through the caked-on powder, he muffled a cough. Making his way to the dress department, he greeted those already present and sank wearily into a chair.

"Everything all right there?" Rubeus analyzed his visage with sharp eyes, searching for traces of deceit and betrayal.

Darien forced himself to remain calm. "Yeah. I think I'm getting a cold, but I grabbed some medicine from the shelf, so I should be fine again in no time."

"Really?" One of the emaciated ladies brought her hand to his forehead, her fingers mottled and cold against his skin.

Revulsion pulsed through him, but he refused to let it show. He internally winced as he felt her stroke his forehead. What made her think she even had a chance with him? He hated the way they all flirted and fawned all over him as though he were their sole reason for existing. Had it really been _that_ long since they had seen a man who wasn't as old and decrepit as themselves? He wondered if Rubeus had felt this way before he had come along to take his place as the youngest male. Granted, Rubeus had at least ten years on him, so perhaps he wasn't as titillating anymore. Then again, how anyone could like that stick-in-the-mud in the first place, he'd never know.

Darien stifled a cough and managed to smile at the woman hovering over him. "Really, I'm fine. Thank you for your concern."

She tutted and pursed her lips. "Hrm..."

Hearing everyone grow quiet as they restlessly stood up, Darien coughed again. This time, he refused to smother the sound as he rose to greet Nehelenia.

She shot him a cursory look. "Stop making so much noise. If I can hear you from a mile away, surely the Night Watchman can, too."

"I'm trying not to," he murmured, stifling another cough.

"Oh, this will never do." She glared at him, her eyes silently scolding him for having the audacity to be sick. She winced as she heard him cough yet again. "If this racket continues, we'll be discovered in no time."

She airily waved a hand, dismissing him. "Rubeus, take him to the lower storage level. Stop in the Book Department on the way. He's obviously going to need something to do for the next couple of days while he's in seclusion."

"Yes, my Lady." He led Darien from the department. "You know," he mused, "You're turning out to be quite problematic."

"Am I?" Darien gulped nervously. Would this so-called brilliant plan turn out to be his downfall in disguise?

"Indeed." Rubeus turned on his heel and stopped in front of the bookshelf. "Hurry and grab what you need," he muttered, his voice laced with disdain. "Also, please try to rein in your mucus for a few minutes. The Night Watchman is close by and I'd hate to be discovered due to your inability to control your bodily functions."

Darien nodded mutely, refusing to give Rubeus the satisfaction of a response. Instead, he quickly grabbed the latest issue of MAD magazine and two books that he hadn't read yet, _Franny and Zooey_ and_ To Kill A Mockingbird. _After that, he followed Rubeus to the basement, where he made a big show out of "releasing his mucus," much to the elder man's chagrin.

Rubeus crinkled his nose in disgust. "Any louder and he'll hear you all the way from upstairs."

"You're the one who told me to contain it."

Rubeus narrowed his eyes. "Stay here until it's time to retire for the day. You'll report here each night until you are well again."

"Understood."

Rubeus gave him one last suspicious look before leaving to return to the others.

Looking around at his new surroundings, Darien faltered. He was all alone. She wasn't here. All of his acting had been for naught. He glanced around again and shrugged. At least his every move wouldn't be tracked and analyzed for the next few days. On top of that, he finally had time to write and catch up with some of the books on the current bestseller's list. Creating a comfortable spot with some fur coats, he curled up with a small flashlight and read the night away.

The next night, anticipating the same thing, Darien grabbed another new book, _The Winter of our Discontent_, on his way to the storage basement. At the moment, his mind was more eager for new knowledge than it was for creating a new world of its own. Settling into his nest of coats, he was only able to get through the first two chapters before a loud slam was heard and feet began to slap heavily against the cold cement. A loud thud vibrated through the room as a nearby wooden shelf groaned under the weight of its new burden. Loud, choking sobs vibrated through the otherwise quiet room, the gut-wrenching sound softened as it was smothered by cloth.

Darien looked across the room in concern, his heart beating faster as he realized that it was _her_. After a few moments of silence, she began to calm down. "What's wrong?" he asked, eyes soft with worry.

She hiccupped and looked around, causing her hair to slap against her cheeks. Her eyes were wide with alarm. "W—Who's there?"

"It's Darien."

"D-Darien?" She sniffled softly. "Why are you here?"

"Ah, that. I told the Turtle Lady I had a cold and she temporarily banished me to the basement."

"The Turtle Lady?" Serena laughed, startled. "You mean...Lady Nehelenia?"

"Yeah. You see the resemblance, too?"

She laughed again, the sound low and unsure. "Well, I never really thought about it before. It's been years since I've seen a turtle. I'd almost forgotten all about them." She paused to release a quiet hiccup. "But, yeah, I can see it if I try." She swiped at her face and glanced around the room. "Where, uh—Where are you?"

"Buried in a pile of coats near the door." He shone his flashlight in her direction, creating a beacon to lead her to him. She came to him slowly, her steps small and tentative.

He sat up and moved over to make room for her, patting a nearby coat and motioning for her to sit. "It's quite comfortable down here, if I do say so myself."

"And since it's a bottom shelf, it won't break."

"Precisely."

She climbed in hesitantly, shooting him a tentative look. "What were you doing before I interrupted you?"

"Ah, not much, just reading a book."

A wistful expression crossed her face. "Is it a good book?"

"So far."

"What's it about?"

He dug the book out from under a coat and held it out to her. "Here, you can have it to read. I can always grab another copy."

She looked at the book longingly before shaking her head, a remorseful look in her eyes. "I can't."

"Why not? Nehelenia doesn't let you _read_, either? What _can_ you do?"

She gulped nervously. "It isn't that. It's just..." She fiddled with the hem of her skirt and ducked her head. "...I don't know how."

"You—what?"

She twisted the fabric roughly, crumbling the rose-patterned design and rendering it indecipherable. "I've never been to school, you see."

"How is that possible?"

"Ah, when I was six, Momma brought me here to buy a new frock for my birthday, but we got separated. I fell asleep beneath a rack of coats and when I woke up, well..." She shrugged. "Here I am."

"You've been here since you were six?"

"Practically seven."

"That's...horrible. They wouldn't let you leave, even though you were only a child?"

"No, they were afraid I would tell someone. Even if the adults thought I had made everything up, a suspicion of doubt would have been planted."

"So that's what Nehelenia meant about you being different."

"Yeah, I'm not like all of you. I didn't choose to be here. I long to see the world again. More than anything, I want to escape from this place."

She lifted her face to the ceiling. "I want to feel the warmth of the sun against my face as I stare up into a clear blue sky, the wind tangling in my hair and the green grass soft against my bare feet. I want to run through a meadow of wildflowers at sunset or get caught in the rain and dance through the mud puddles on my way home. How could you willingly give all of that up, Darien?"

"I didn't know I'd be here forever. I seriously thought my idea was a unique one. I planned to hide out here while I finished writing the next Great American Novel, but obviously I thought wrong."

She shivered and curled up against his side. "Will you tell me about the outside world?"

"It depends. Will you tell me why you were so upset tonight?"

"Oh, that." She shrugged against his arm. "I was just upset because I wanted to see Mr. Johnston's new play upstairs with all of the others, but Lady Nehelenia wouldn't let me. She still doesn't trust me."

"Why not?"

"Uh...once, I tried to call attention to the group so the Night Watchman could save me. I was young at the time. That's why I'm her servant; she can always keep a close eye on me."

"Was she mean to you?"

"No meaner than usual."

"But...she made you cry."

"It happens."

He looked down at the girl at his side, wishing there was something he could do to help her. "Don't you ever get bored sitting down here by yourself?"

"Oh, I'm not always down here. The Lady only banishes me if I'm being exceptionally loud and annoying. She doesn't like it when she can't see what I'm up to."

"Well, I'm glad you're here tonight."

She looked at him, startled. "...Me too."

"Will you come again tomorrow?"

"Perhaps. If they find out..."

"They won't."

"We can't afford to arouse their suspicions. If we do, they'll send for the Dark Men." She shivered at the thought.

"The Dark Men...I keep hearing about them, but who are they, exactly?"

Serena's face darkened. "They're the very essence of evil." She looked around through hooded eyes. Once sure no one was watching, she began her tale.

"I saw them once. It was the scariest night of my life. I had been in the Food Department and this man appeared before my eyes. I thought it was the Night Watchman at first, but it turned out to be a burglar. The Dark Men came and took him before he was discovered."

She swallowed nervously. "Lady Nehelenia was sick that night, so it was easy to slip away and follow them. They took him to the back of the department where the butcher shop is. I hid by the window, so they never saw me. They strapped him to a table and wrapped him up like a mummy. There were so many tools...and a bucket. I remember a bucket."

She placed a hand against the floor as though to hold it in place. "It was empty, but when they started to play with their tools, it began to fill with a shiny crimson liquid." Her voice was faraway, a childlike quality surfacing that hadn't been there before.

"He screamed. It gave me the shivers. They did something to his tongue, though, because after that scream, he was very quiet. Then, they...they...no. No more. I made a noise, because he turned to look at me...Nehelenia would get very mad if she found me peeping, so I ran home...no more. No more."

She looked at him tearfully, her eyes full of anguish. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder, drawing her closer and running a comforting hand across her back. Her ragged breathing began to slow and even out. Her eyes lost their hazy tint as she focused once more. With a shiver, she closed her eyes and leaned on him for support.

"The next day, there was..." Burying her face into the curve of his shoulder, she breathed deeply, steadying her voice. Her inner child fled, leaving behind a young woman with steel in her voice. "The next day, there was a new mannequin in the window, and that was that."

_Murder. Cold-blooded murder._ Darien shivered and held Serena tighter. What he wouldn't give to be as far from here as possible. Why had he ever thought that it would be a good idea to live here in the first place?

Feeling Serena life her head from his shoulder, he wondered if he hadn't been drawn here to save her. Maybe that was why he hadn't been able to get her out of his head. He had been sent to become her savior.

**_.-"-._ _.-"-._ _.-"-._**

**Author's Note: **A lot of people need to be thanked for their help in looking this over, especially because it's a little different from the other romances out here. I also need to credit original source material, because this idea did not come from me. However, I also don't want to say anything to spoil the story for anyone right now because I want there to be a good amount of suspense. I'll credit everyone after the epilogue all at once. Send me a PM if you have a problem with that and we'll chat. :)

As for why I chose the "classics" for Darien to be reading, I'll tell you this: All three of those books were on the Best Sellers list the year this story is taking place, so they were "new" books at the time he's reading them and likely to be in every store, especially a department store (at least, before they restructured to be more clothing and less everything else). I chose the titles off the list that readers would be most familiar with.

Like it? Hate it? I'm the one to talk to! Hit the little review button or Email ladybaine at gmail dot com today!

**«·´`·.(*·.¸(`·.¸¸.·´)¸.·*).·´`·»  
«·´¨*·.¸¸.*Baine*.¸¸.·*¨`·»  
«·´`·.(¸.·´(¸.·* *·.¸)`·.¸).·´`·»**


	3. Chapter 3

Evening Primrose

Chapter Three: When?

By Baine

Finished: March 02, 2007

Posted: October 5, 2010

**Author's Note:** Yay, there's an update this week! Last week, my memory of this week's schedule was wrong. It was yesterday I got done early (which meant no haircut, since my hairdresser has Mondays and Fridays off...) and tomorrow that I'm on-call. Today, I'm completely off. We may have the same situation again next week. If I'm able to update, it will be on Wednesday. I'm on-call again, so we'll see. Between you and me, I hope I don't have to work-there are two new books coming out on Tuesday I'd love to curl up and read! (_The Lost Hero_ by Rick Riordan and _Enchanted Ivy_ by Sarah Beth Durst. Riordan's book comes first because as much as I love SBD, I must find out what happened to Percy Jackson!)

It will be interesting to see if a Wednesday night pulls in more traffic since Tuesday is jam-packed when it comes to TV shows. I know that 3/4 of what I watch airs tonight..._Glee_ at 8 and _Parenthood_ at 10, plus that new show _No Ordinary Family_ (aka _The Incredibles: Live Action_) that I have to catch later in the week since it's on against _Glee_ (and musicals ALWAYS win with me).

Disclaimer for Now: There will be more author notes and credits later on. For now, I present you with:

**_.-"-._ _.-"-._ _.-"-._**

**Evening Primrose**

**Three: When?  
_.-"-._ _.-"-._ _.-"-._**

As the dark of night once more scraped its taloned claws across the last rays of light, blackness fell across the now-closed Macy's, signaling an end to the day. Arms and legs slowly unwound as people slipped out of hiding and began preparing for the activities of the night. Darien moved slowly, dreading the coming hours. He had been able to feign sickness for the past four nights, but if he were to do so again tonight, he would surely arouse everyone's suspicions. That was the last thing he wanted to do. He sighed forlornly. He wanted nothing more than to spend more time with Serena. They had become fast friends and he had vowed to himself that he would try to find a way to free them from this sham of a prison.

Stumbling away from the Carpet Department, Darien cut through Bedding and was about to head for the escalator when he heard a tuneless whistle. Looking around for a place to hide and finding nothing, he quickly climbed into a nearby bed and pulled the covers to his waist, posing with a hand against the sheets and a come hither expression across his face.

The sound grew louder and a bobbing light appeared, followed by the Night Watchman himself. The man ceased his humming as he peered at the bed. "Well, that there's a new display. It musta been created to lure in th' ladies." He chuckled at his own joke before tutting and moving away from the department.

Darien counted to twenty before stealthily climbing out of bed and tiptoeing to the edge of the department, only to falter when he saw the Night Watchman standing a few feet away with his back to Darien. His face was weathered with age and he had streaks of silver running through his graying hair. They shone in the dim glow of the store's night lights.

_Usually he's gone by now..._ Darien's breath hitched as he noticed the reason for the man's prostrate state.

A mannequin stood before them, propped against a stand in nothing save for a lacy pink bra, matching panties, and a pair of crimson heels. Blonde hair tumbled down her back as she held her hand toward a sign advertising Macy's latest in Intimate Apparel.

The man breathed heavily, a hand clenched at his side as though to keep himself from reaching out to touch the mannequin's cold, waxy skin. "Man, honey," he whispered, loosening his belt buckle. "If only they'd make real-life replicas of you. If m'wife looked like you, I'd die a happy man."

He stared a moment longer before turning and continuing his round, jerking on his pants as he turned the corner.

Refusing to take his eyes from the display, Darien watched as the "mannequin" slowly slipped from the stand and came to life, bringing her outstretched palm to her chest.

"He scared me!" She breathed, staring toward where the man had disappeared.

"He was early tonight." He peered down at Serena, suddenly grateful for the fact that he was so much taller than her. A faint blush crossed his face, only to be replaced with a scowl as he remembered the way the watchman had ogled her.

"Do you do this often?"

"What?" Her head jerked toward him and she suddenly gasped, remembering her current state of undress. A red tint began to cover her entire body, a fact which Darien mentally tucked away to analyze at a later time.

Serena scrambled behind the display to throw on her clothing, much to Darien's chagrin.

"I tore my nightgown, so I came to get a new one," she proclaimed, her voice coming out muffled as she pulled her shirt over her head. "He was early. There's really no place to hide around here, so the only thing I could do was strip and hope he didn't catch on."

"Good thing you're a girl, then."

"Oh, definitely." She popped her head out and grinned, then stepped around the display and walking toward him, fully clothed. She tilted her head toward the corner. "Do you think he suspected...?"

"That you're a girl?" He ran his eyes down the length of Serena's figure, causing her to blush anew. "It's kind of hard to miss, you know."

She protectively brought a hand to her chest. "I-If I had known—I wouldn't have worn something so revealing today..."

He grinned roguishly. "I didn't mind at all."

"But I did." She glanced around nervously. "I-I should go. She'll be wondering where I am."

She turned toward the escalator, but he grabbed hold of her hand. His voice low, he murmured, "I want to see you again."

"But not tonight." She smiled softly. "I'll find you. For now—no one must suspect!" She pulled her hand from his grasp and slipped away, disappearing in the blink of an eye.

Darien stood frozen, staring at the display where she had just been standing. Seeing the Night Watchman stare at her like that had caused his blood to boil. The darkness had faded away to shades of red and he had wanted to throw himself in front of Serena's body to get the man to stop ogling her. He had wanted to protect her.

Darien frowned. He wasn't used to having such extreme feelings for another human being—especially jealousy. Licking his lips, he nodded decisively. Tomorrow, he would ask Serena to leave here with him. If she agreed, he would look after her and teach her everything there was to know about the outside world, starting with how to read and write.

He stiffened as he felt a hand clamp down on his shoulder. Why had he allowed himself to zone out and cease paying attention to his surroundings? Now, he'd never be able to save Serena. Turning slowly, he breathed in relief as he realized that it was Rubeus and not the Night Watchman who stood behind him.

The red-haired man gave him an inquisitive look. "It's not like you to lose sight of your surroundings, Darien."

"I know. I'm sorry."

The older man smiled impishly. "You needed a place to come and be reminded of the girlfriend you left behind, didn't you?"

"No, I—"

"It's a pity there aren't more girls your own age around here, boy. Most of the old biddies are too dried up and crinkly to even think about shagging."

"I—"

"Of course, there's always Serena, but I wouldn't go after her if I were you." His eyes glinted as he met Darien's gaze. "She belongs to Lady Nehelenia, and once the matriarch dies, she'll pass the role on to me. So you see, Champ, she's already been claimed. If you're smart and know what's good for you, you'll leave her alone."

He smiled and clapped Darien's shoulder again. "Not that I think you'll do anything, of course. Now, what do you say we go downstairs and join the party?"

"That's where I was headed." Darien shifted uneasily as he followed the older man to the escalators, taking off his shoes before padding quietly down the steps.

After the escalators had been turned off for the night, footsteps tended to echo and become louder. Wearing shoes while moving from one floor to the next was strictly prohibited; they made too much noise in the stairwells. In fact, shoes would have been outlawed all together if it weren't for the fact that you could never tell when the floors had been mopped or waxed until it was too late. At least, that was what Lady Nehelenia had told him. In reality, Darien suspected that she and the other females had invented the flimsy excuse in order to be allowed to continue wearing their designer shoes. After all, shoes would make more noise squeaking against a surface that was wet or sticky, wouldn't they?

Darien stared after Rubeus' retreating back, eyes narrowed and forehead puckered in thought. A small frown graced his lips. What had Rubeus seen just now? Had he been watching the entire time, or had he truly walked into the vicinity after Darien's encounter with Serena? His heart pounded loudly in his ears. It was so loud that Darien was surprised the escalator shaft hadn't picked up on the sound and re-broadcast it for anyone to hear.

Rubeus must have seen them together. Why else would he have been so territorial just now? Darien's fingers dug into the flesh of his palms as he curled his hands into fists. He had met Serena a mere two weeks ago. They had conversed with one another for less than a week. Of course Rubeus had more of a claim on her than he did. The man had watched her grow up before his very eyes.

Why did he care so much? Why did Serena have such an impact on him? Darien couldn't get her out of his head. He could bring to mind every shade of yellow that wove itself into her flaxen hair. He could recall every contour of her face in intricate detail.

As Darien stepped off the escalator and slipped his shoes back on, his expression grew even darker. It was because of Rubeus and his cohorts that Serena was here in the first place. He was sure they had made her cry more than once. Not only that, Rubeus regarded her as a possession. To him, she wasn't even a full-fledged human being. How could such a man have dibs on an angel like Serena?

Darien's heart clenched. He had to find a way to get the two of them out of this place before things had a chance to escalate any further. He looked up and hid a scowl, not wanting to draw Rubeus' attention to the fact that anything was amiss. Instead, he feigned innocence as they came to a stop. "Something wrong?"

Rubeus pursed his lips together, his eyes roving over Darien's features and causing a shiver of trepidation to make its way down the younger man's spine.

Darien shifted uncomfortably, but refrained from looking away. He ignored the slow, burning sensation that dropped into the pit of his belly as he felt the gaze of Rubeus' calculating eyes.

"You know," Rubeus mused, bringing a hand to his chin and scratching thoughtfully, "you're a rather attractive man, Darien."

Darien blinked, startled. "Er...pardon?" He watched warily as the older man circled him like a vulture.

"You could have been a model or in the pictures. Instead, you're a writer."

"Books have more substance, more...grit, if you will."

"Hmm, perhaps." Rubeus swooped in for the kill. "Of course, what's an author without an audience? How do you expect to reach out to the masses if you're tucked away here?"

Darien bit the inside of his lip, causing a muscle to twitch in his cheek. A warm, metallic sensation filled his mouth. He inwardly grimaced at the taste, yet refused to give Rubeus the satisfaction of a reaction. It was obvious that the man was attempting to coerce Darien into giving himself away. Of course, he should know by now that Darien was smarter than that.

Daintily stepping around the trap laid out for him, Darien shrugged and replied, "Above all else, I write for myself. If I ever have something worthy of being published, I'll sneak up to the office and stick it in with all of the outgoing mail."

"You'll be content with that?"

"Of course."

"I wouldn't be." Ignoring Darien's sharp look, Rubeus mused, "I'm a writer too, you know. We're not as dissimilar as you might think."

"No?"

"Of course, I'm a playwright, not a poet. Then again, Shakespeare managed to be both back in the day, did he not?" He chuckled lightly. "Perhaps one day, we'll find a way to collaborate. Until then..."

His lips quirked into a rare smile. "Even here, you can't fully hide from talent agents, Darien. I want you to be in my play."

"How can I possibly do that when we're here?"

"Why, we'll have the play here, of course. It pertains to _us_, Darien, not to outsiders. We'll invite the patrons of the other stores, too, though of course, the cream of the crop is right here at Macy's."

Feeling as though he had been punched in the gut, Darien exhaled sharply. "There are people living in the other stores as well?"

"Of course. Why ever not?"

"N-No reason." Mamoru gulped nervously.

"Ah, don't worry. The crowd won't be _too_ large. Not everyone is interested in seeing a show. We won't attract any attention, especially if we plan our intermissions around the Night Watchman's schedule. On top of that, we always use the storage basement. The Watchmen rarely ever go down there."

"You've done this before?"

"Oh, sure. We usually do five or six shows a year."

"All yours?"

"Heavens, no. I'm not the only playwright here, you know."

"Of course." Darien refrained from bringing a hand to his forehead. After all, he was a man. It was only women who got light-headed, right?

"What do you say?"

"About what?"

"Acting in my play. If you can't be in the pictures, this is the next-best-thing, right?"

"But I don't want—"

"There are a couple of girls about your age over in Wanamaker's. One of them in particular is quite lovely. She's eager to meet you, too. Our ladies have been bragging quite extensively about our latest inhabitant. The other stores are quite jealous that you chose us over them, but of course, they really shouldn't be surprised. We _are_ Macy's, after all."

He smiled smugly, an arrogant tilt to his chin. "Anyway, she was quite upset to hear I had chosen Serena over her, but I wrote the show for _our_ people. I don't want to bring in performers from the other stores."

"You asked Serena to be in your show?"

Seeing Darien's flabbergasted expression, Rubeus chuckled lightly. "I admit I have my doubts, too, but she's calmed down a lot. If I start prepping her now, she'll be primed and ready by the time her new position comes along."

"What position?"

"I told you earlier, Darien. Serena is my intended. Sooner or later, she has to learn to acclimate, and it might as well be sooner, right? She has been coddled for far too long."

A wave of fury pinched his gut. How could Rubeus be so clinical about everything? How had Serena put up with it for so long?"

_Serena... _His eyes lightened. If he were to accept the role, he could continue to see her every day. Rehearsals were a perfect excuse. He nodded with determination. "I guess I'll do it."

A wide smile broke across Rubeus' face. "Great. Be in the basement at midnight on Monday. You'll have an hour to get into costume."

"That's only two days from now."

"Mm-hmm. We're performing the production on Lady Nehelenia's birthday."

"Two days isn't enough time to memorize my lines."

"Memorize your lines? Don't even worry about it. You'll read from the script. I don't have enough copies for everyone to have one. They _are_ handwritten, after all."

"Do you always have blind runs?"

"Of course. It's the way things are done here."

"Oh." Darien frowned. So much for rehearsing with Serena. "So are we supposed to make her presents or something?"

"Nah, it's easier to grab something from the shelf—just make sure the item has a designer label on it."

They stopped in the Food Department to pick up nourishment for the night. Darien's eyes flitted to the back, where he could see shadowy figures in the window of the Butcher's Shop. He blanched and turned his head, eyes lighting on the next stand. A smile pulled at his lips.

"Hey, Rubeus?"

"Yeah?"

"What about cake?"

"Cake?" He followed the younger man's gaze. "You want to make her a cake?"

"My grandmother taught me her secret recipe."

"The Watchman will smell it—"

Darien raised his nose into the air. "They always leave bread out overnight on Sunday. The smells will blend."

"I'll leave it to you, then. Just make sure not to get caught."

"Promise."

**_.-"-._ _.-"-._ _.-"-._**

Darien's eyes darted back and forth nervously. Being so close to the butcher shop made his skin crawl. Why had he agreed to this in the first place? Hearing the soft slosh of batter being stirred, he turned his head to watch the blonde girl at his side. Of course. He wanted the opportunity to spend time with Serena without rousing suspicion. Being Lady Nehelenia's maid, Serena always put the matriarch's meals together in the bakery. It was what had given him the idea in the first place.

Sensing him staring, Serena glanced up and smiled. Flour speckled her face like freckles and a smudge of batter clung to the crevice near her lips.

"You look like a snowman."

"A what?"

"You don't know? You make them out of snow."

She shook her head slowly. "I don't really remember snow. It's white, right?" She traced a pattern against the flour-coated table. "Like flour?"

"Yes."

"If I were to run it through my fingers, would it be soft and fluffy?"

"More like wet and cold."

"Really? I don't remember that part."

Darien smiled sadly. Her revelation tugged at her heart. What other things that he took for granted was she unfamiliar with? He reached out and brushed the flour from her nose, causing her to sneeze.

Feeling his breath hitch, he bent down and kissed her lightly, transferring the powdery substance from her lips to his. Frowning as he realized she hadn't responded to his touch, he pulled back to look at her. His eyes darkened as he noticed that, rather than removing the flour, he had merely succeeded in smearing it across her face. Now wet, it clung to the rosy substance of her lips, hiding it from view. His vision blurred. How could he be jealous of something as inanimate as flour? It didn't make sense...and yet, the thought of it gracing her lips when he was unable to do so left a burning sensation in his chest.

He stared into her upturned face, taking in the silver flecks swimming in her cerulean eyes. Her wide, frightened eyes.

_Shit._

Trepidation filled him to the core as he watched her bring a hand to her mouth, fingers curled as she slowly touched her lips.

"What—What are you doing, Darien?"

He winced. "Serena, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to—"

"No, it's okay. It—Well, it sort of felt nice. What do you call it?"

His jaw dropped, but he quickly regained control. Had they taught her _nothing_ over the years? His eyes narrowed. Then again, he didn't really want anyone but himself to teach her something so intimate, did he?

He smiled softly. "It's called a kiss. People do it to show they like each other."

Her voice regained its whimsical tone, leading Darien to believe that the curious child Serena had once been was surfacing again. "Like the way Mom and Dad used to like each other?"

"Mm, sort of, yes."

"When you like someone, how does it feel?"

"...Feel?"

"When I think of you, my insides melt into cookie dough. Whenever I'm near you, I feel warm inside, as though I'm baking in the oven. Just now..."

He waited with bated breath as she eyed him with interest.

"Well, it was like biting into a freshly baked cookie for the first time."

He smiled at her analogy. "Mm, that sounds about right. I think you like me."

"I do?"

"Mm-hmm." He brushed a finger against the corner of her lip, removing the cake batter. He brought it to his mouth and sucked thoughtfully. "You know, it's lonely to bake alone, Serena."

She bobbed her head in agreement. "That's why I'm glad you're here tonight. I hate being up here alone."

"I think we should bake some more cookies together, don't you?"

She blinked, startled. "You're making cake, though, not cookies."

"Mm, not that kind of cookie." He bent his head toward her once more, smiling as he felt her tentative response.

Her lips were soft and flavored with flour. They brushed against his lips slowly, as delicate a touch as a butterfly would have were it to land on him. After allowing her to get used to the sensation, he delved further. Her mouth was warm and tasted of raw cake batter. He explored slowly, reveling in the sensations she was causing to unfurl in the pit of his stomach.

Pulling back, he took in the flushed tone of her skin and the way her eyelashes brushed across the ridge of her cheeks. He had never seen anything prettier.

She opened her eyes and smiled slowly, causing her face to appear illuminated from within.

_Except that._

"That was...really nice."

"Yeah?" He suppressed a grin, knowing she would think he was laughing and take offense.

She nodded, a dreamy expression in her eyes. The look quickly disappeared as a soft thump was heard next door. "We—We shouldn't do this. If they see—"

"They won't."

"But if they do—"

"Serena, I want to take you away from here. If I asked you to escape with me...well, would you?"

Her eyes darted around the room frantically. She reminded him of a frightened rabbit. "I—This isn't safe. They'll hear you!" She beat the cake batter loudly, as though if they heard the noise, they would think nothing was amiss.

The thumping continued, but no one entered the room. The thumps got louder before stopping all together. Darien met Serena's eyes, awash in sudden knowledge. The Dark Men had claimed a new victim. Either that, or they were subtly warning the duo of what awaited them if they didn't shape up and start playing by the rules...

**_.-"-._ _.-"-._ _.-"-._**

**Author's Note: **A lot of people need to be thanked for their help in looking this over, especially because it's a little different from the other romances out here. I also need to credit original source material, because this idea did not come from me. However, I also don't want to say anything to spoil the story for anyone right now because I want there to be a good amount of suspense. I'll credit everyone after the epilogue all at once. Send me a PM if you have a problem with that and we'll chat. :)

Like it? Hate it? I'm the one to talk to! Hit the little review button or Email ladybaine at gmail dot com today!

**«·´`·.(*·.¸(`·.¸¸.·´)¸.·*).·´`·»  
«·´¨*·.¸¸.*Baine*.¸¸.·*¨`·»  
«·´`·.(¸.·´(¸.·* *·.¸)`·.¸).·´`·»**


	4. Chapter 4 and Epilogue

Evening Primrose

Chapter Four: "Take Me to the World"

Finished March 08, 2007

Posted: October 13, 2010

b**Author's Note:**/b What a good week it's shaping up to be! Yesterday, Rick Riordan and Sarah Beth Durst both came out with new books, Friday, we can FINALLY own the long-awaited i_How to Train Your Dragon_/i,and best of all, I don't work today, which means that you get to read the finale to _Evening Primrose_! (Yes, I know, it's the most important on that list...er...^^; Well, at least, it should be. I'm not reading my eagerly-awaited books in order to get this up for y'all. Actually, speaking of books, I have a relatively young book review blog. If you want to see what I'm reading/enjoying and talk about books, visit abackwardsstory (dot) blogspot (dot) com. The newest entry is a look at the new i_Beauty and the Beast/i_ art book, and I'd like to review the novel i_Room_/i once all of this has been posted online. Once I finish the latest by Riordan and Durst, they should be up on the site as well. I try really hard to avoid spoilers (hard when looking at final books in a series such as i_Mockingjay_/i) and I don't post about books that I dislike. Check out my blog if you're as in love with books as I am! ^_^)

Also, stick around after the story wraps up for the author notes I've been promising you all along!

Happy 13th of the month, everyone! (At least it's not a Friday, no?) I must say, I like having that date as the launch of the finale...

b** _.-"-._ _.-"-._ _.-"-._**

**Evening Primrose**

**Chapter Four: Take Me to the World  
_.-"-._ _.-"-._ _.-"-._**/b

Tapered fingers trembled as they sought to re-knot the tie that cloistered Darien's throat. The tie slid to the floor, becoming a silky red puddle at his feet. He bent down to pick the offensive item up in order to start anew when it was lifted by delicate fingers, their pale skin stretching taut to reveal thin blue veins.

He winced at the sight and forced his gaze to meet the cerulean eyes of the waif in front of him. His Adam's Apple bobbed as she came closer, loosely wrapping the tie around his neck and knotting it nimbly, allowing him room to breathe. Her warm breath wafted across his face and he wanted nothing more than to draw her closer and pour life into her fading body. Standing so close to Serena, he could see that even the skin on her face had become translucent, giving her the appearance of a frail porcelain doll.

"Where did you learn to do this?" His voice was soft and husky, causing Serena to glance at him before quickly averting her eyes and returning to the task at hand.

"I often help the men with their tasks, Mr. Chiba. It is one of my duties here."

He held back a sigh, wishing he could remove the impartial tone from her voice without drawing attention to them. Lowering his voice, he murmured, "Meet me backstage at intermission. We need to talk."

She gave an imperceptible nod, straightened his tie, and moved away from him, causing Darien to immediately miss her warmth. He watched idly as Serena made her way to Rubeus, allowing no signs of discontent to cross his face. Inwardly, he saw red, but he forced the color to flee by clenching his fists and allowing his nails to embed themselves into his flesh.

Moments later, Darien's script was thrust into his hand as he was pushed onto the makeshift stage. He gulped nervously. A dry run was scarier than anything else because it was easier to mess up. Opening the script, he sighed in relief, pleased that the handwriting was legible. His pleasure soon faded as he proceeded with the show, coils of horror building as he realized that the script was Rubeus' perverse way of reminding Darien of his place. The tale about two people having an affair behind the store manager's back hit a little too close to home.

Seeing Serena come towards him from stage-left, he gulped and closed his eyes. Her eyes were dull and lifeless; her lips rosy from repeatedly being bitten due to nerves. He clasped her hands and squeezed lightly, offering her strength and comfort even as he glanced down at the script sprawled across the table. Even knowing they spoke lines in a script, Darien hoped his eyes conveyed his true feelings to Serena. He didn't want to speak the written words designed to leave a wound on her heart, even if they weren't his own.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, voice flat and void of emotion.

"I came to see you, Tessa. We arranged it yesterday, remember?"

Serena shook her head slowly, causing her brown wig to slide into her eyes. "No, Max. I love Rubin. Stop bothering me."

Darien rolled his eyes. Picking a name so similar to his own...could Rubeus be any vainer and obvious? His lip curled as he looked down at the script again. He had to wonder if Rubeus had planned this in part to kiss Serena and claim what he deemed to be his. It seemed to be Rubeus' way of showing Darien that in the end, he could never have her. The most he allowed Darien's character to do was lift her hands to his lips and lay a single butterfly kiss on her knuckles. He did so willingly, his gaze never wavering from her own. His breath hitched.

It wasn't in the script, and yet...and yet...his head lowered against his will and his eyes fluttered shut as he felt the heat of her breath across his lips. i_To hell with decorum,_ /ihe thought, leaning forward and fusing their lips together. He pulled back slowly and ignored the gasps from the audience, already missing her warmth. Later, he would claim that he had misread the script. The brief glimpse of heaven he'd experienced had been worth it.

Serena dropped their hands and backed away, her lips full and flushed. "I told you that this can go no further, Max. If you continue to ignore my wishes, I shall have no choice but to inform Rubin of your deceit and ship you off to the Dark Men!" Her finger trembled as she pointed at him and her chest heaved up and down.

Fear made its way into Darien's heart. With her words, Rubeus himself appeared onstage, demanding to know what was going on before sending Darien's character away and delivering the play's moral to the audience: 'Step out of line and you're a goner.'

Backstage, Darien mopped at his damp forehead with the back of his shirtsleeve, taking care not to look at Serena. He hadn't been able to talk to her during intermission due to Rubeus pulling him away for a 'pep talk' and now he was glad they hadn't met. He finally realized that he and Serena were under intense scrutiny. They'd have to be much more careful from here on in.

He grimaced as Rubeus came up behind him and grasped his shoulder, propelling him away from prying ears. "Darien, my boy! Did you have fun out there?"

Darien wet his lips nervously. "Well, uh, I'm not an actor, so I was more nervous than anything else."

"You hid it well, though it's rare for actors to do improv when there's a script right in front of them."

Here it was. Darien maintained a nonchalant expression. "Did I? If I misread anything, I do apologize, Rubeus. As a fellow writer, I know how important it is to stay true to an author's written words. As I said, I was really nervous and reading rather fast, since I didn't have the script ahead of time."

Rubeus pursed his lips and furrowed his brow. "As long as it doesn't happen again next week, I'll forgive you for your transgression this time."

"Next week?" The words were hollow against his tongue.

"If the show is well-received, there is usually an encore performance."

"But we didn't even know our lines and—"

"That is precisely why we created room for an encore, Mr. Chiba. The actors are always much tidier the second time around."

"Oh."

"Now, go clean up so you can serve that cake of yours." He pushed the younger man toward a nearby coat rack. "Oh, and Darien?"

"Yes?"

"Kissing Serena was never in the script. Don't do it again. I will tolerate no further 'slips' next week." He pivoted on his heel and left before Darien had the chance to respond.

**_.-"-._ _.-"-._ _.-"-._**

The next night, Darien woke up with a splitting headache. He hadn't slept well after the turmoil of the night before. All he knew was that things were coming to a head and he had to do something before it was too late. Creeping out from his bed of rugs, Darien stretched his long legs and cricked his back, rolling his head from side to side as he stood and yawned. He headed toward the escalator wearily, only to stumble as he collided with a warm body.

He stilled in alarm, aware that he was now sprawled across the ground with his limbs tangled around whomever he had bumped into. Praying it wasn't the Night Watchman, he peered up and let out his breath in relief. Nestled on top of him with her lips an inch from his own was Serena. Her eyes slowly opened as she stared down at Darien.

"Evening," she breathed, her eyes darting to his lips.

Darien's lips curled into a smile. "Evening. I wouldn't mind waking up to an encounter like this on a weekly basis." He lazily wrapped his arms around her torso, causing her cheeks to bloom with color.

"I'm glad I found you."

"Were you looking for me?"

"Mm-hmm. We didn't get to talk last night."

He tilted his face upwards, brushing her lips with his own. "Talking is overrated anyway."

She giggled and pulled back. "We need to move. The Watchman will be by in a few minutes."

He sat up reluctantly, his arms still slung around her waist. "But I'm comfortable here."

"I'm sure you are." A crooked smile crossed his face.

She wriggled away from him, only to freeze as she heard a click in the distance. "He's on his way, Darien." She nervously entwined his fingers with her own and squeezed. "We i_really/i_ need to move."

Darien scanned the area as he strained to hear how close the Watchman was. A frown marred his face. "No time."

"But—"

He stood up and pulled her with him. "We'll do what I did a few days ago."

"What—"

"Go climb under the covers of that bed."

She glanced at him in surprise, but hurried to do what she was told. Her mouth dropped as she felt him scramble in behind her. "Dar—"

"Shh." He brought a hand to her mouth and met her eyes. "Take your shirt off and pull the covers up over your chest."

"W—"

"Hurry! We don't have time!" He shed his own shirt and maneuvered himself so that he was hovering over Serena, partially blocking her from view.

Hunched under the covers, she murmured, "We're going to get caught."

"Only if you keep talking." He kept his eyes trained on her face, knowing that if he looked past her chin, the sight of her bare, creamy shoulders rising above the covers would undo him.

Already in an awkward position, Darien hoped the Watchman wouldn't come close enough to see the miniscule shake in his arms as he strained to hold his own weight.

Hearing the stride of footsteps as a jaunty whistle echoed through the quiet store, Darien clenched his jaw and stared down at Serena, hoping she could see the reassurance in his eyes. Under any other circumstances, he would be elated to have Serena pinned beneath him on a bed. Her skin radiated with heat beneath his palm and he wanted nothing more than to teach her about the birds and the bees.

His shoulders tensed as the whistling abruptly died off and the sound of footsteps came to a stop.

"Well, I'll be damned."

The footsteps shuffled closer. Darien felt his heart thud against his ribcage. Any closer and—

"Jerry'll love this. I've never seen anythin' like it!"

Sensing that the man had maneuvered himself even closer to the bed, Darien mentally berated himself. If anything, he should have positioned himself so that his body protected Serena from the man's roving gaze.

"Macy's really does push the boundaries of decorum, don't it? If they keep up these here risqué displays, I'll be thinkin' twice 'bout turning in my retirement and handing the store on over to Jerry." The Watchman gave a low whistle. "Speakin' o'Jerry, I need to go find 'im and bring 'im on over here to see this."

After a moment of silence, his footsteps receded and Darien sighed in relief. He stared grimly at the young woman pinned beneath him. "You realize we have to stay like this now?"

She gazed up at him through hooded eyes, cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "Why?"

"He's on his way to get the other guard."

"Hasn't he ever seen two mannequins at once before?"

"Not positioned in quite the same way that we are."

"What's so special about it? Well, besides the fact that you made us take our shirts off." She paused and looked up at him. "Why i_did/i_ we do that, anyway? Surely it wasn't necessary."

He bent and placed a butterfly kiss on her forehead. "You really are innocent, aren't you?"

Her lips twisted into a pout. "No, just chilly."

He threw back his head and laughed.

Serena smiled and pulled his head down, capturing his lips with her own. Darien's eyes widened at her boldness, but soon closed out of reverence to the moment.

Pulling back to catch his breath, he murmured, "What was that for?"

She planted a light kiss against his chin. "Mm, you were being too loud. I had to shut you up somehow."

He loved the way it felt when her lips vibrated against his skin as she spoke. It both tickled and sent a shiver of awareness through his veins before settling in the pit of his stomach. "I think I could get used to this kind of treatment."

"Oh yeah?" She brushed her lips over his again.

"See? Right there. Told 'ya I wasn't makin' it up."

Darien's eyes widened and he felt Serena tremble against his lips. She unconsciously dug her nails into his cheeks.

"Seems you left a few details out." A low whistle pierced the uncomfortable silence.

"I didn't think they'd been kissin'." Feet shuffled closer.

"Too distracted by a pretty lady?"

"I guess. I thought she was more covered than that."

Darien's jaw ticked and he worked to keep an oath from slipping its way off his tongue and through his lips. He tried to reassure Serena with a look, but she had closed her eyes, causing her eyelashes to fan against her upper cheekbones. Mulling it over, he decided it was a smart move on her part and closed his eyes as well, lest they give him away were the men to come too close.

It was an odd sensation to be in such an intimate position, yet unable to move a muscle. His lips yearned to crush themselves against Serena's and be brought to life once more. Her soft flesh was like silk against his callused palms and he longed to see if the rest of her felt the same.

"Well, mannequins don't just up and move on their own, after all."

Darien's fingers tightened against Serena's shoulders.

"Yeah. I s'pose I was too involved in my own fantasies to pay too much attention to reality."

"She's a looker, ain't she? Too bad she ain't real."

"She's the most life-like mannequin I've ever seen."

"They're all too damn life-like here. Nothing but the best for Macy's. If ya ask me, it's kind'o creepy. Always feels like ye're bein' watched."

"True, true. And this one!"

Feet padded closer to the bed.

"Why, it's almost as tho' he's gone and gotten hisself, a tan, no?"

Darien bit back a grimace and inwardly swore. If he had known he'd be thrown into this position, he would have powdered his torso before leaving the Carpet Department. A smirk tugged at the corner of his lip, begging for room to grow. Of course, even knowing this would occur, he still would have come out tonight. He wouldn't have missed this experience with Serena for the world.

"Eh, prob'ly just a darker paint job to contrast wit' how pale the gal is."

"Smart lad."

A loud clap was heard and Darien envisioned the older guard slapping his hand against the new recruit's shoulder.

"We should get movin' on to the other departments. Any longer here and I'm not gonna be able to wait 'til I get on home to th' missus."

Both men laughed and after a moment, Darien heard the sound of feet shuffling against the carpet, picking up in volume as they stepped onto the linoleum. He listened until they faded away to silence, then slowly opened his eyes.

"Well," he murmured, "that was...an interesting experience."

"One I'd never wish to have repeated."

He smiled lightly and moved his hand to her face, stroking her cheek with the tip of his finger and reveling in its velvety smoothness. "You don't enjoy being here with me?"

"I always enjoy being with you, Darien." She gazed at him through innocent eyes and tilted her cheek so that it fit into the curve of his palm. "We fit together like puzzle pieces, don't we?"

He smiled in amusement and bent to place a kiss on the tip of her nose. "Believe it or not, we can fit together even better than we do now."

She tilted her head curiously. "How?"

He nestled his face against the curve of her throat, placing a kiss against her neck and feeling her pulse jump against his lips. Enjoying the sensation, he murmured, "Maybe I'll tell you when we get out of here." He idly wondered if the vibration of his lips against her skin had the ability to turn her on as much as hers had done to him before the Night Watchman arrived.

She sighed and moved closer to him. "Darien, I don't want to get caught. If Lady Nehelenia finds out, she'll separate us for sure."

He felt her eyelashes flutter against his palm and assumed she had once more closed her eyes—this time out of pleasure as opposed to fear.

"Mm, I think Rubeus is getting suspicious. His play seemed like a warning, didn't it?"

"A bit..."

"He wants you. He will never give you to me willingly."

"I don't want to be with anyone but you, Darien. Living here has become tolerable, but only because you're here beside me. I don't want to lose you. I feel as though I never lived before you came along."

She pulled back to brush her lips against his. "You brought me to life. I live solely for you."

Darien bit back a groan. "And I you," he managed to grit out as he crushed her lips with his own, delving into her mouth with his tongue and trying to show her what he felt, knowing that no words were adequate enough to portray the depth of his emotions.

Pulling back reluctantly, he brushed the pad of his thumb across her soft lips. "Serena..."

Her eyes fluttered open, a dreamy haze in their cerulean depths. She smiled against his skin and kissed it gently. "Yes?"

Absently massaging her lip as his thumb paced back and forth, he met her eyes and murmured, "I don't want to hide anymore."

"Pardon?"

"I want to walk by your side, hand in hand, and let everyone know you're mine. I want us to meet on the street underneath the glow of the moon rather than in an aisle under a muted security light. I want to see what you look like as the sun kisses your hair and paints your skin until it's golden and gleaming."

She gazed at him in rapture and breathed, "It sounds absolutely lovely."

"I want to take you away, Serena. I want to show you the world. I want you to see all of the wonders that you missed out on as a child."

"I would love nothing more than to run away with you, but—"

"So why can't we?"

"Because—"

"No. We'll escape, Sere. They can't watch us i_all/i_ the time. We can sneak out during the day and—"

"They lace our meals, Darien. We're knocked out at the end of each night. You know that."

"So refuse to eat. Tell them—"

"If someone says no, they send for the Dark Men."

"The Dark Men this, the Dark Men that. I'm tired of being controlled through threats." He gazed pleadingly at Serena. "Can they really be that bad?"

She drew in a shaky breath. "I've seen them. I told you—"

"Are you sure you haven't just embellished what you saw to match what others have told you? I mean, seriously. How can anyone mistake a flesh-and-blood human being for a mannequin? They must be heavier, for one thing. For another, their skin would—"

"No, they drain their victims. By the time they're done, the person is an empty shell. There's not...there's not a lot of them left. After they've been drained, the Dark Men embalm the body in wax. In the morning, the wax is dry and the store has another new mannequin." She drew in a shaky breath.

"It sounds painful."

"I imagine it must be. I still remember..." She closed her eyes and quickly shook her head. "I don't want that to happen to you, Darien. Besides, you i_belong/i_ here. You came here to escape from the world, not to return to it."

"I belong with i_you/i_, Serena. You don't belong here, so neither do I."

"But, Darien—"

"No." He gave her an abrupt kiss, his lips making a soft smacking sound against her own. "Run away with me, Serena. We can stay here until the Night Watchman comes back and ask for his help."

"He'd never believe us."

"Even if he doesn't, he can arrest us for trespassing and kick us out of the store that way. We can claim we fell asleep. They won't be too hard on us."

"What about the others? I'm sure they're looking for us by now."

"Tomorrow, then. We'll meet in the Toy Department at midnight. I'll slip away to go to the bathroom or something. That's about the time you usually prepare Nehelenia's meal, is it not?"

"Y-Yes."

"So you'll be alone." He brushed his lips against her bare shoulder. "Meet me there, okay?"

She drew his mouth back to her own and gave him a lingering kiss. "I'll meet you."

A smile broke across his face and he gave her a loud, smacking kiss. "Tomorrow, we'll start anew. But for now...we must pretend once more."

He nodded reluctantly and pulled himself away from her. It was one of the hardest things he had ever had to do. He pulled his shirt from beneath the covers and drew it over his head. His eyes darkened as he watched her do the same. He managed to restrain himself from pulling her back to him with the thought that there would be many nights to come where they could appreciate one another's presence without the constant niggling sensation of fear and stealth at their backs.

Standing, he slowly held out a hand to Serena, helping her from the bed. She turned down the covers in silence. Hand in hand, they walked to the escalators.

"Until next time, love." He kissed her briefly, and then headed to the down escalator while she headed to the up one. He watched until she disappeared from sight before slowly descending the steps. He was so wrapped up in thoughts of Serena and planning their escape that the possibility someone could be watching them at that moment never even occurred to him.

**_.-"-._ _.-"-._ _.-"-._**

Nervous tension filled the air. People chattered anxiously, glancing around from the corners of their eyes.

Darien could swear he had even seen a twisted smile or two. He felt skittish as he went through the motions of Bridge, knowing he was envisioning the venomous looks out of worry for the night to come.

The fact that Serena hadn't waited on Nehelenia before leaving to fix her meal only served to make him more nervous. Glancing down into his lap, he looked once more at his watch. Five minutes to go. Just enough time to finish the game.

Moments later, he set down his final cards and excused himself to go to the bathroom, telling everyone to start the next round without him. He told himself he was just imagining the prickling sensation of eyes analyzing his every move as he strolled in the direction of the restroom. Once out of sight, he veered off-course and hurried for the escalator. Stepping off, he quickly turned the corner and bumped into Rubeus.

"Darien, my lad! What are you doing up here? Aren't you supposed to be downstairs playing Bridge?"

"I needed a snack break."

"Ah. Well, let me accompany you. I was just on my way to the Food Department myself." His eyes glinted and a feral smile seemed to spread across his face.

Darien swallowed and nodded, mutely following the man and mulling over how to slip away. Every second wasted was one less when it came time to escape.

Shifting his eyes as they entered the department, he heard a scuffle near the bakery and turned his head. Four men staggered under the weight of their burden. One man backed into the wall and lost his balance, allowing something golden to fall to the floor. Seeing the object hang in the air, he realized that it was hair. He could only think of one person with hair the color of liquid sunshine.

"Serena..."

Rubeus tilted his head as he followed Darien's gaze. "Ah, yes. Unfortunately, we had to let her go. We weren't able to cull her wayward actions after all."

"What are you—Wait. Rubeus, the Butcher Shop—They—"

"They are the Dark Men, yes."

Darien's eyes widened. "We need to stop them, need to—"

"You need to go back downstairs where you belong, Darien."

"You would leave her there alone?"

Rubeus' eyes narrowed into slits. "Lower your voice at once. The Watchman will hear you."

Darien leaned closer to Rubeus and spat out, "I. Don't. Care."

Eyes snapping with fury, Rubeus growled, "Go downstairs at once or the Dark Men will come for you as well. There will be two feasts tonight instead of one."

Face molten with fury, Darien stared at Rubeus before stalking back to the escalator.

_iEvery second wasted is a second less to save her./i_

Rather than going downstairs, he headed for the up escalator, knowing that the Watchman was currently on the top floor. His heart pounded in his throat as the blood rushed to his ears.

_iSave her, save her, save her.../i_

His feet beat in time to the rhythm of his heart as he took the stairs two at a time, gasping as he stepped out onto the top floor. A bobbing light came toward him. Pulling his journal from his pocket, he scrawled his story quickly. Dropping it on top of a display of stationary, he hurried to meet the man heading toward him, intent on saving Serena before it was too late...

**_.-"-._ _.-"-._ _.-"-._**

Evening Primrose

Epilogue: No Longer Alone

Finished: March 8, 2007

Posted: October 13, 2010

b**Author's Note:**/b Attached the epilogue to this the same way I did with the prologue...

b** _.-"-._ _.-"-._ _.-"-._**

**Evening Primrose**

**Epilogue: No Longer Alone  
_.-"-._ _.-"-._ _.-"-._**/b

A branch brushed against the window. i_Tap, tap. Scratch, scratch./i_ Silence filled the living room; the only thing that could be heard were Darien's words being brought to life as Minako read the last of what he'd written in his notebook.

_i~~I'm sorry my writing has become so sloppy. My hand hurries to finish our story in case the final chapter is upon us. If you're reading this, it means they have won. Look for us. A young woman with blue eyes and long gold hair that streams down from two buns, a young man with blue eyes and ebony hair...possibly an older man with gray hair. Look. If you find us, hunt them down. Snuff them out. Tell the world our story...~~_

_Tap, tap. Scratch, scratch. /i_

Awareness returned in droves. Minako's head snapped up as she turned toward the window, watching the tree's skeletal branch beckon to her with its bony fingers. She shivered and huddled closer to her husband, his warmth no longer enough to free her from the cold sense of dread trickling through her blood.

Her husband closed the notebook abruptly, creating a snapping sound that echoed through the otherwise silent room. "Well, that was some story, wasn't it?" He tucked it between the couch cushions and out of sight. "Whoever wrote that must have a great imagination, huh?"

She looked up at him with wide eyes. "You don't think it's true?"

"Of course not. People can't actually live in a department store. They'd get caught. Besides, mannequins aren't made of flesh and bone, right? It isn't possible for skin to have the same texture as wax."

"I suppose..." She leaned against his shoulder. "I've been scared all day for nothing, haven't I?"

He gently tweaked her nose. "Why don't you put this story out of your head for the night, huh? Tomorrow we'll go return the notebook and I'll buy you a pretty new dress to get your mind off of this, okay?"

She nodded drowsily, allowing her eyes to flutter shut. "Mmm, I did see a pretty dress in the window of Macy's today. It would go perfectly with my favorite hair bow." She yawned and curled closer to her husband. "They were taking down the display, though. When I left the store, there was a wedding tableau in its place. The groom was wearing a black suit that complemented his ebony hair perfectly. The father who gave away the bride looked so real. His face was weathered with age and there were streaks of silver running through his gray hair. I remember thinking he was the most unique-looking mannequin I'd ever seen. Very lifelike. The bride wore the most beautiful gown. I wish they had a dress like that when we got married. I was so envious. She looked like me, too."

Minako's eyes opened slowly. "She had...startling blue eyes. And her hair..." She sat up and clutched at her husband's hand. "Her hair looked like spun gold. She had the most unusual hairstyle I've ever seen. It was cascading down her back from a pair of twin balls resting atop her head."

She turned to look at her husband fearfully as realization dawned. "Three new mannequins in the window at Macy's..."

_iTap, tap. Scratch, scratch./i_

Neither of them noticed that the window had slowly begun to swing open of its own accord. They were too busy staring at one another in horror...

**_.-"-._ _.-"-._ _.-"-._**

b**Author's Note: **/b

So, um, hi? *ducks the flames*

Okay, we've come to the end. What did you think? Anything like you were expecting?

I have so many people to thank. A lot of the old SMRFF list members critiqued this piece, including Chibi Anon, Sailor Elysia, and Stormlight. Others such as Dancing Dreams, Goddess Althena and Nephthysmoon also gave me some great suggestions. If your name isn't here, I'm so sorry. It's been so long since I gave you this that I forgot. I apologize and still love you!

Now, the answer you've all been waiting for: How did I come up with this idea? This is where the disclaimer I've been promising you comes in, folks. i_Evening Primrose_/i is not my own original idea. It is based on a short story by John Collier. I'm not sure how similar it is to the short story because I never read it; I wrote this when I was living in Japan and had no access to a library with his work. I also couldn't find the story via the internet (e-books weren't as popular a couple of years ago).

I know about the story because my favorite Broadway composer, Stephen Sondheim (i_West Side Story, Sweeney Todd, Into the Woods, etc._/i), wrote a little-known musical that adapted the story for the TV Series i_ABC Stage 67_/i, which first aired on November 16, 1966. I never got to physically watch it (it may be on YouTube now, but wasn't when I was writing), but that will change later this month. On October 26, 2010, _iEvening Primrose/i_ is finally coming to DVD. If you enjoy musicals—or this story—I hope you'll watch it. Each of the four chapters uses the title of one of the four songs from the mini-musical (not counting P/E, where I randomly made the titles up). You can find the music online, I'm sure. It's also available to purchase in a few formats. I believe you can still buy the _ABC Stage 67_ version with the original artists (Anthony Perkins and Charmain Carr), but don't quote me on that. I bought it when it was a limited edition release. If it's not still in print, it may be soon when the DVD releases. It's definitely available on _iStephen Sondheim: The Story So Far_/i, but that's a bit pricier and more for Sondheim collectors. Plus, their voices will be preserved on the upcoming DVD. There are other versions available for purchase as well. The 2001 Studio cast that comes with a recording of another of his musicals, i_The Frogs_/i, features Neil Patrick Harris (yes, Doogie Howser. Broadway Vets knew he could sing long before i_Doctor Horrible_/i came along) and Theresa McCarthy. The Mandy Patinkin CD i_Dress Casual_/i features him and Bernadette Peters, and there's an out-of-print CD, i_Sondheim at the Movies_/i, that features Gary Beach and Liz Callaway. So there are a lot of different ways to hear the incredible music that makes up i_Evening Primrose_/i.

Because I couldn't physically watched the original television program, I looked at the CD liner notes to see what was supposed to be going on. I also found a transcript of a radio broadcast from Nov. 5th, 1947 that was adapted by John Dunkel. The version varies slightly from the Sondheim version of the story, so I used the elements I liked best from both versions and added my own twists, creating a new version of i_Evening Primrose_/i with our beloved couple. I've heard a couple of people say it reminds them of an old i_Twilight Zone_/i episode. That could be true. I don't know, I've never seen the series. It's likely that the episode also borrowed from Collier's short story, but I don't know that for a fact.

Anyway, there is my inspiration. If you liked this series or are a fan of musicals, I highly recommend checking out i_Evening Primrose_/i on CD or DVD. I should see if my local library has Collier's story in stock sometime now that I'm back in the USA...

Happy October, everyone! Thanks for sticking with me. I've enjoyed talking with all of you each week!

Like it? Hate it? I'm the one to talk to! Hit the little review button or Email ladybaine at gmail dot com today!

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«·´¨*·.¸¸.*Baine*.¸¸.·*¨`·»  
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